It's amazing that a film made over 80 years ago so firmly cemented the iconography of this man-plays-God story for generations. It's all here: the flat topped creature with the bolted neck, the electrically charged laboratory, the marauding peasants with pitchforks, the finale at the burning windmill, and so on. James Whale's moody lighting and direction keeps things moving, but it's Boris Karloff's touching dialog-free performance that is the real standout here. He makes you realize it's not he, but Collin Clive's mad scientist who's the real monster.
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